


Like Day and Night

by EvasiveWarrior (Emilightning)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Self-Loathing, fairy tale AU, i mean it's beauty and the beast so just take from that what you will, they're perfect for this story, uhhhhh let's see i should tag some stuff just in case?, will tag more as I add chapters, you know i had to to it to 'em
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-06-15 06:39:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19607488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilightning/pseuds/EvasiveWarrior
Summary: (Prinxiety Beauty and the Beast AU.)Roman longs for a life worthy of a great story, but he knows he won't find it in his small village.Virgil lives his lonely life against a ticking clock, waiting for the one who can finally break the curse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just in love with this idea, and I hope I'll be able to stick with it. It's gonna be a long one.  
> Feedback is very much appreciated! <3

Ever since he was sixteen, Roman had been told he was beautiful.

He wasn't really sure what made him so. Or how it had suddenly become public knowledge-- it just seemed like one day the entire village had gone from politely tolerating him to whispering and casting lingering stares as he walked by. 

"Has he always been so handsome?" he would often hear people mutter in disbelief to their friends.

Whatever the case, he was never sure how to respond. He'd generally acknowledge the compliments with a smile, and when the occasional admirer romantically propositioned him, he had mastered the art of gracefully declining.

It wasn't that he was against the idea of marriage, as he had patiently explained time and time again. He just wasn't in love yet, and he didn't see the point in courting for courtship's sake. It was as simple as that. 

"There's no one around _here_ who's good enough for him," one young woman had snidely remarked to her companion, purposely loud enough for Roman to hear.

He had pretended not to notice, but he'd avoided the village center for several days afterwards. 

Over time, would-be suitors (male and female alike) had moved on and gotten married, or left town, or begrudgingly given up and joined in the gossip centered around Roman instead. It usually didn't bother him too much, but eventually it became easier to keep close to home. He found the most joy when he was at home. He lived in a tiny cottage near the outskirts of town along with his best friend, a brilliant-- if slightly chaotic-- craftsperson called Joan.

Joan spent their days attempting to sell their wares in the marketplace, while Roman worked as an apprentice in the local bookshop. He would bring home stacks of worn and tattered books at least once a week, reading and re-reading the myths and adventures of unlikely heroes again and again. 

All in all, everything was pleasant enough, and Roman knew he had nothing to complain about. 

But that was the problem-- or part of it, at least. He'd read what must have added up to hundreds of books, and every single one of them was more interesting than his own life. There was pain and conflict and hardship in those stories, to be sure, but he found himself wishing he could trade places with any of those characters. 

Sometimes he would make up his own stories, weaving fantastical tales from his mind and imagining himself as the hero, the great explorer, the tenacious warrior. He hadn't yet dared to write any of them down or share them with anyone besides Joan, but he would. Someday.

Surely there was another kindred soul out there who longed for a life of great adventure?

*************************************************************

"Please let me come with you!" Roman begged, clasping his hands together in a pleading gesture. "I'll carry everything on my back if I have to. I'll walk next to your horse. I'll-"

"That would make the trip twice as long as it needs to be," Joan pointed out, looking up from the ornate hat they had been decorating with shiny bits and feathers. They held it up, tilting it towards Roman for approval. "Well?"

"It's beautiful. You know everything you make is beautiful." The flattery in Roman's tone disappeared. "And you know I'd buy all of it if I could."

Joan smiled. "If everyone saw things the way you do, I'd be the richest person in the world." 

"Good, then you could take me to the solstice market with you!" Roman laughed. The wistful glimmer in his eyes showed that he was only half-joking.

The solstice market, a three-day event that signaled the beginning of summer, was truly a sight to be seen-- and for now, it was the closest thing to an adventure that either of them would get. 

Hundreds of hopeful merchants, street performers, peddlers, and traders gathered to sell all that they could offer to the wealthiest people they could find. It was a fantastic spectacle, and with a bit of luck, one could potentially make enough money to last for months.

That, in fact, was the reason Joan was traveling there in the first place-- they hadn't had much luck in the local market all year. Their handmade goods and wild, unconventional paintings had begun to pile up in the corner of the house. The more the space filled up with unsold items, the harder Roman worked in the bookshop. But that wasn't enough to feed both friends, and they both knew it. The house was in poor shape, and it wouldn't last another winter unless Joan got very lucky. Or very good at selling.

Unfortunately, for all their good qualities, they'd never been either one.

"You wouldn't enjoy yourself much anyway," they tried to convince Roman. "There's never a moment of quiet, it's always just shouting and bargaining." 

Roman gave a slight sigh, knowing he was stuck. "Perhaps." He tried not to show his disappointment at having to stay behind once again-- he knew it was the least he could do, and there was always next year...

"Oh, don't make such a face," Joan said, tossing an old red hat towards Roman. Their aim was good, and it landed on his head, making him laugh. "Besides, you should be taking advantage of the house while I'm away. You can finally bring all those admirers around." 

Roman blushed, rolling his eyes indignantly. "You think too much of me. I'll just be sitting in your chair and reading for the next week." 

"Shall I just bring some dashing young dreamer home to sweep you away with roses?" Joan asked, and it was clear they weren't just teasing.

"You know me too well," Roman admitted. He adjusted the hat on his head, which had landed crooked. "Someday. But maybe just bring the roses for now."

*************************************************************

They left early the next morning. Roman waved them off, watching as their large gray and white horse became smaller and smaller until it disappeared over the hills. The sun was rising, and it cast a beautiful rose-colored glow over the village. He loved this time of day, before everyone woke up, when the streets were empty and quiet. 

As he stood there, feeling the cool morning air quickly warming up around him, his eye caught sight of two figures walking down the road leading to his home. He gritted his teeth; he knew right away who would be searching him out at this hour.

Why they always came _together_ , he wasn't sure. Maybe it was a subtle way to show him he was outnumbered. Very romantic.

"Good morning, Roman," the smooth voice, thick with flattery, drifted towards him. "You're looking positively _golden_ in this summer sun." 

The voice belonged to none other than Roman's most... _persistent_ admirer-- one of the most well-known and charismatic men in town, no less. He was known to most of the village simply as Dee-- if he had a real name, Roman wasn't sure what it was or whether anyone knew it. It was a mystery, not unlike the man himself. Normally, Roman enjoyed mysteries, but something about Dee had always unsettled him greatly. 

"Thank you, Dee," Roman said as coolly as he could manage. He nodded politely, acknowledging the smiling man's companion. "Hello, Remus. I can't recall the last time I saw you." 

The slightly shorter man who was rarely ever seen alone grinned. "Oh, I've been around," was the only information he offered as he raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. 

Dee ignored him. "I must say Roman, I'm surprised you haven't gone to the solstice market! I assume your, ah... friend has gone?" 

"Their name is _Joan_ ," Roman informed, folding his arms. "And yes, they just left."

"Oh yes, of course," Dee said. It was clear from his tone that he'd known perfectly well that Joan would be gone when he arrived. The man was shamelessly cunning, but Roman was growing wise to his tricks.

And he didn't like the way Dee spoke about Joan, as if they were some obstacle preventing him from pursuing Roman. If Roman had actually wanted Dee's romantic advances, he'd probably have told him that sneering at one's best friend was not the way to win their heart. 

He opened his door, looking over his shoulder at the two unwelcome guests. "Listen, as much as I'd love to watch the sunrise with you and Remus, I'm afraid I'm terribly busy today, Dee." 

Dee narrowed his odd-colored eyes-- one nearly black, one inhumanly yellowish green-- and forced a smile. "Now Roman, don't be like that. I was just worried you'd be lonely out here by yourself."

He'd slowly been walking up the path during the encounter, and he now stood only a few steps in front of Roman. Nonchalantly, he leaned a hand on the half-open door, blocking it from closing. His beguiling smile never wavered.

Roman reluctantly pulled the door open again, and Dee lowered his arm, looking slightly smug. "If you're really so busy today, perhaps you'd allow me to take you to dinner tonight, then?"

There was a moment of lingering eye contact before a slight smile tugged at Roman's mouth. "I don't think so, Dee. Why don't you take Remus instead?" 

Without another word, Roman slammed the door in the flustered man's face.

He sighed in relief and shook his head. "If I wanted to dine with a snake, I'd eat in the grass," he muttered to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Virgil stared into the fireplace and wondered what would happen if the castle were to catch fire somehow. 

Would it burn to the ground? Or was it, too, protected from external damage; immune to aging, only rotting in spirit? 

He would never _do_ it, of course; even if he thought there was a chance it would work, he had no intention of destroying the castle. There were too many lives inside, even if they were growing less and less human by the day. Just like him. 

The difference was, the rest of them didn't deserve it. 

A voice trailed in from the doorway behind him: "If you're trying to put out the fire by staring at it, I doubt you'll be very successful."

Virgil redirected his glare towards the one who'd spoken-- the clock, of course. It was always him. "You _know_ that's not what I'm doing, Logan," he grumbled, unable to think of a suitable retort. 

Somehow Logan managed to successfully raise an eyebrow despite not having any. "So why have you been scowling at it for nearly half an hour, then?"

A second, more cheerful tone chimed in: "Yes, Virgil, please-- _enlighten_ us!" Patton, the resident teapot had slipped in behind Logan, and he looked very pleased with himself even as the other two gave him stony looks. 

"Don't you two have anything better to do?" Virgil stood up from his chair, casting an unnaturally long and misshapen shadow across the library's walls. His thick black cloak trailed behind him as he stormed out of the room. 

"Well, now look what you've done," Logan chastised Patton after the door had slammed. "I told you to be more serious."

The sweet-faced former cook of the castle pouted. "I _have_ been more serious! You don't know how many times I've held my tongue recently... but sometimes I just can't contain myself."

"That's preposterous; you don't even _have_ a tongue. None of us do."

A groan emerged from behind one of the bookshelves. "You two woke me up with your damned bickering." The voice belonged to Remy, the candelabra, and the only member of the castle with a snarky attitude to rival Virgil's. But he was good company when he wasn't just waking up from a nap, which was fairly often. 

"Apologies," said Logan flatly. "I just don't think it's wise for him to be sitting around brooding all the time."

Remy made his way over towards the other two, with his "hands" placed approximately where his hips would be. "Well, what do you expect from him? It's the one thing he's good at."

"Remy, that's not true," Patton protested gently. "You know he's just... tense right now." He was choosing his words carefully, and they could all hear what he wasn't saying: that the more tense Virgil got, the harder it would be to break the curse. 

After a moment of silence, Logan spoke up again. "Spring is over," he said. "That means he has less than a year now." 

"It will happen," Patton insisted as he always did. "I know it will."

**********************************************************

The forest was dark and dense, the moon was barely a sliver in the sky, and Joan was finally willing to admit that they were terribly, hopelessly lost.

They knew they should have waited until it was light if they were going to attempt this shortcut-- or just avoided the shortcut altogether, come to think of it. That might have been the better solution. Well, it was too late to turn back now... as they'd learned from trying to turn back at least three times. 

Somewhere in the distance, wolves howled. All right, this was bad. 

Joan looked around for any sign of light, or running water, but to no avail. Even the slice of moon had disappeared behind a thick layer of clouds. 

"It seems possible... that I may have made some poor decisions in my travels tonight," they announced aloud to no one in particular. 

Underneath them, the horse snorted in what sounded like agreement. 

"Oh shut up, Elliot," Joan muttered, resigning to continue on deeper into the forest. They were already in it this far-- and anyway, wasn't there an old riddle about only being able to walk halfway into the woods, because after that, you'd be walking out of the woods? So surely, they reasoned, they must have gone more than halfway by now. So whichever direction they went, there had to be a way out. 

They knew their logic made no sense, of course, but they were half-delirious with exhaustion by that point. They hadn't slept at all the night before; the solstice market had been like a dream come true, and their bags were now filled with more money than they knew what to do with. But of course that meant _something_ had to go wrong on their return journey. It never could be that easy. 

It would be worth it once they finally got home, though-- to see the look on Roman's face when- 

_Damn it!_

The roses. They knew they'd forgotten something. The market had been so busy that three days had passed by in a whirlwind of excitement and color and of course they'd gotten so caught up in everything that they'd forgotten to buy those roses Roman had asked for.

Well, he hadn't really _asked_ for them, but it was the very least Joan could do for their friend. They sighed. 

And then they saw it, straight ahead, as if it had appeared out of thin air-- a massive iron gate, twice as tall as them and Elliot combined. Not just a gate, but an entire fence to go along with it, stretching left and right farther than Joan could see.

"Thank the gods," they said, relieved that at least there was a place to stay for the night. 

As they reached the gate, they dismounted Elliot and got a closer look at the structure that the fence was guarding. It was a castle; that was the only way to describe it-- a massive stone castle, half hidden in shadow and surrounded by a wildly overgrown garden. They tugged at the latch holding the iron entrance closed, fully expecting it to be locked, but to their surprise, it gave way with ease. 

After a moment of hesitation, they pushed the gate open slowly and began to call out.

"Hello...?"

**********************************************************

"There's someone outside!" 

Logan looked at Patton with no small amount of skepticism. "In the middle of the night? You're imagining things."

Patton, whose excitement would not be deterred, bounced with enthusiasm. "No-- there really is this time, walking up the front path through the garden. They must be lost; we should let them in!"

"Of _course_ we should let them in," Remy agreed. "What's more romantic than being invited into a castle by a mysterious stranger?" 

"Objectively a lot of things, considering the stranger in question," Logan replied, unconvinced. "It's not up to us. We can't just bring _anyone_ inside."

"Oh yes we can," the candlestick said in a singsong tone, already making his way towards the front hall. 

The quick, sharp knock came suddenly, startling all three servants. None of them actually wanted to be the one to let the stranger inside. It had been years since they'd even _seen_ a human, much less spoken to one. 

As it turned out, they didn't have long to question the situation. The door slowly began to creak open, spilling the palest of light into the corridor, and a smallish silhouette peered in. 

"Hello? Is anyone here?" The stranger's voice echoed and carried around the front hall. When it was met with only silence, they continued: "Please, I'm just looking for a place to stay the night... I've lost my way." 

Patton glanced over at Logan with a hopeful expression, but the clock shook his head sharply. He glanced towards Remy to make sure the willful candelabra was heeding his warning-- but of course, that was too much to hope for.

Remy was just inches away from the human's left foot, and gesturing to direct their attention downward. "Helloooo, down here," he called.

The human jumped in shock and scurried backwards, letting the door slam behind them. "Wha- who said that?"

"I did," Remy answered, and ignited the three candles that sat atop him. Now he could faintly see their new guest's features-- dark hair; large, round dark eyes; a scruffy but youthful face. And of course, a bewildered expression.

"But you're..." Their voice trailed off as they bent down to pick up the candlestick, inspecting it more closely. The two stared at each other for a moment until finally Remy shrugged. 

"Yes. I am," he said with a slight smile. "And who are you, I might ask?" 

"Joan. My name is Joan," the stranger introduced, looking very unsure of themself. "Are you... you aren't the only one here, are you?"

Remy laughed. "Not at all. My friends are hiding right over there." He pointed with his left candle over towards Patton and Logan, who were both crouched behind a table leg.

They emerged, the latter looking very cross at having to reveal himself. "Was that really necessary, Remy?" he asked. 

"Yes," Remy answered. "We have a _guest_ now, Logan; don't be so hostile."

" _I'm_ being hostile?" Logan exclaimed. "I'm sure our 'guest' would prefer _my_ hostility to that of the _owner_ of this castle's."

Joan set Remy back down on a table and lifted their hands in defense. "No, of course, I'm sorry. I can leave if it's not-"

"No. You'll stay the night," Remy insisted, glaring at Logan. 

Patton sidled up towards the slightly shaken human and offered a kind smile. "They always act this way," he said apologetically. "You're more than welcome to stay here tonight. Come, follow me." 

**********************************************************

Joan was fairly sure they were dreaming, so they didn't wait too long before deciding to follow the teapot down the hallway. And they didn't question for too long that the candlestick offered them a meal; they just accepted it. And as long as they were playing along with this crazy scenario, they were perfectly happy to oblige when the clock begrudgingly showed them to a small guest bedroom where they could stay the night.

But when they woke up the next morning and they realized they were still in that bedroom, in the same grubby riding clothes they'd been wearing the day before, they began to worry a bit.

They pulled on their riding boots, deliberating whether it would be worth it to try and clean the marks they'd left on the floor (they decided against it; it hadn't seemed to bother the talking furniture, anyway), and quietly snuck back to the front room. They were amazed they'd found their way there without getting lost; the castle was enormous, and it looked completely different in the daytime. Far less menacing. If they were being honest, it was actually quite lovely.

It was a shame they didn't have time to stay and explore it more, but since the sun was already up, that meant they'd wasted plenty of time there. Roman was likely worrying enough as it was. He'd probably enjoy hearing about the talking furniture, though (although Joan was almost certain at that point that it had been a dream). 

They were more than relieved to see Elliot still tied up in the same spot they'd left him in the night before, looking rather annoyed and restless. Joan rested their hand on him for a moment and looked around the garden, which, though terribly neglected, was still undoubtedly beautiful. 

Then they noticed the rose bushes. 

Bright, rich, beautiful, and blooming with hundreds of flowers; they were almost more rose than bush. 

Surely, even on the very slim chance that there _was_ someone who lived here, they couldn't possibly miss just a few roses. Could they?

As if transfixed, Joan made their way over towards the tangle of bushes, eyeing the biggest and most deep red blossom. Slowly and deliberately, they reached their hand out, careful to avoid getting stuck by thorns, and took hold of the stem. 

They twisted, they pulled, and the rose was free. 

A storm must have blown in suddenly, because the sky went dark with clouds and the castle was plunged into darkness once again, almost as thick as the night before. 

Joan stepped backwards, suddenly filled with a sense of awful dread. The rose in their hand almost burned to the touch, but they held onto it-- even as a tall shadow moved across the ground, closer and closer to them, until finally it engulfed their own. 

And then they felt a hand grab their shoulder from behind. 

"You," a voice growled behind them, "you trespass onto _my_ grounds, eat _my_ food, sleep inside _my_ castle... and then you _steal_ from me as repayment?"

The gnarled hand's grip tightened as they spun Joan around, forcing them to face their captor. 

He was inhumanly tall, towering over them with ease. His face was contorted into a ghastly expression; his sharp, animal-like teeth were bared, his brow furrowed, and his eyes-- entirely storm-gray with black pinprick pupils-- cast down a murderous look as he lifted Joan up by the shirt with barely any effort. 

"Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," he threatened with a snarl. His voice doubled over itself like an echo.

"I- I'm sorry!" was all Joan could manage to choke out through their fear as they struggled. 

The grotesque creature stood there, regarding them for a moment longer, before they drew a knife from inside their cloak.

Joan gasped and recoiled as much as their position would allow-- but no pain came.

They opened their eyes to find that Elliot's reins had been cut, and he was running free. Past the gate and into the forest he ran, leaving his owner stranded, now a prisoner of the beast. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Fun fact: When I first started writing this chapter, I actually had Logan and Remy's roles reversed, but would you believe I'd never actually seen the entirety of Beauty and the Beast? Of course I had to fix that, so I went and watched it last night and god, I loved it so much. And I realized I had the roles completely wrong, so they got switched.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this part! Feedback is very much appreciated <3)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, and I'm really sorry it's so short-- my mental health has been up and down a bit lately. But I appreciate the kind words everyone has left so far!  
> I'm so surprised and happy people seem to be enjoying this AU so much. I promise the next chapter will be longer and more interesting.

Roman's imagination was both rampant and vivid, and most of the time, he liked it that way. It helped him escape the bland everyday-ness of life when he needed it to-- but sometimes, it was more than happy to work against him. 

Now was one of those times, unfortunately. He knew Joan had a history of getting lost in places as small as their own town, so it wasn't _terribly_ worrying that they hadn't returned by sunset on the last day of the solstice market. Even when Roman awoke the next morning and found them still absent, he tried to convince himself that there was nothing to worry about. Joan was smart, capable, resourceful-- much more equipped to deal with any sudden danger than Roman was, at any rate. 

But the possibilities of what _could_ have happened to them kept materializing in Roman's mind, growing more and more complex and outlandish with every passing hour of the day. He tried to distract himself by humming, rereading one of his favorite books, even attempting to organize some of Joan's many odds and ends that they had left laying around. They'd made the trip before, after all, and surely they could make it again. Even if it had been a year since they'd last traveled such a distance... 

It was well past midday. Roman stood in front of his home, halfheartedly tugging at a few weeds that had managed to sprout in the flower patch, when suddenly he heard a familiar-sounding whinny somewhere not too far away. At first, he thought it was his imagination acting up once again, but after a few moments, he grew aware of the sound of a galloping horse approaching. He quickly scrambled around to the back of the cottage, preparing to wave his hand in greeting-- but the sight before his eyes stopped him in his tracks. 

The horse was definitely Elliot, but he was alone. Upon his back rested a saddle and a tightly secured sack, and nothing more. 

"Elliot!" Roman called out, frowning deeply and rushing towards the urgent-looking animal. Against his will, his heart started to pound. "Where's Joan?"

********************************************************

The sun was still at least an hour from setting, but the forest had grown almost completely dark when the castle finally came into view. Summer had just officially begun a day ago, yet the air suddenly held a deep chill that made Roman shiver as he approached the huge iron gate. 

"Are you _certain_ this is it?" he asked Elliot quietly, not sure what he was expecting to hear in return. The horse had been nothing but loyal in the two years they'd owned him-- and even aside from that, Roman felt something deep down telling him that this castle was a place he was meant to find one way or another. 

Silently, he chastised himself for indulging his overactive mind in such a crucial hour. Who knew what waited for him inside this place? He couldn't afford to be idle. 

He was almost certain he heard thunder rumble in the distance as he dismounted Elliot and took several cautious steps towards the gate. "Stay there," he muttered, not wanting to tie the horse to anything in case he had to make a quick escape. 

The gate opened smoothly, without so much as a creak despite how old it looked. As soon as he crossed the threshold and stepped onto the stone path leading up to the castle, Roman felt something strange in the air. It wasn't anything he could put a name to, but it was unmistakably there, and it sent a chill through his body. Still, he pressed on, determined to find his friend. 

He couldn't help but wonder what this castle was doing in the middle of the forest in the first place. It certainly looked big and grand enough to house royalty, yet there wasn't any royal blood living anywhere near his village as far as he knew. The closest palace that he was aware of was hundreds of miles to the north.

_And who builds a castle in the heart of such a creepy forest anyway?_ he wondered, growing more and more unsettled by the second. For a brief moment, he glanced back over his shoulder. Everything looked the way it had a moment ago; that was comforting, at least. He wasn't crazy. There was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. 

It would have given him great comfort to know what that explanation could possibly be.

********************************************************

Technically, Remy was supposed to be guarding the entrance to make sure no one else found their way into the castle. 

Well, he assumed that was what Virgil had meant, but what he'd actually _said_ was "Watch the front door. I don't want any other intruders in here." 

And of course, Remy had agreed-- but just because he was watching the front door didn't mean he was foolish enough to _stop_ the beautiful chestnut-haired boy from entering. 

This was the one. He knew it right away, without a shadow of a doubt. This was the person destined to break the curse.

He followed him as he wandered through the castle, calling out the name of the person who'd been taken prisoner earlier. It was difficult for Remy to keep from jumping in and intervening this time, but he wanted to see what this new stranger would do on his own.

Not much to the candelabra's surprise, the young man eventually ended up finding his way to the tower...

********************************************************

"Hello?" Roman called out for what felt like the hundredth time. And for the first time, he was met with a response.

"Roman?" Joan's voice came loudly, sounding disbelieving. Immediately, they lowered it to a hushed tone: "Over here!"

Roman dashed over to where he heard them. Around a corner, there was a row of iron doors with barred windows looking into their small cells. Even in the dim candlelight, he could see that the third cell down did indeed hold his friend, who looked very surprised-- and very frightened. 

"What happened?" he cried out, at the same time Joan asked, "How did you find me?" 

"It doesn't matter," Roman answered first. "I'll get you out of here, don't worry."

Joan's hand reached through the bars, gesturing for Roman to wait. "No!" they told him in a slightly louder voice, sounding frantic. "You need to go. Get out of here before he finds you."

"Who?" Roman asked incredulously. Then he shook his head. "No, it doesn't matter! Of course I'm not leaving without you."

"You have to-- it's not going to do any good if we're both caught!"

"But I don't _understand_ , who-" 

His voice broke off, blood turning to ice as a strong hand grabbed his arm from behind. It didn't hurt, but he stood there paralyzed with fear until his captor spoke in a low, echoing growl. "Turn around." 

Somehow, Roman managed to force himself to do so, slowly, anticipating the very worst. And it was fairly close to that as his raised his eyes up and took in the sight in front of him. 

"What are you staring at?" the beast snapped loudly, causing Roman to flinch and hold his free arm up in defense, covering his face. 

But nothing happened. He dared to glance back up and saw that the creature-- who was considerably taller and stronger than him, amongst other intimidating features-- simply stood there with a deep glare fixed on Roman. 

After what seemed like ages, Joan spoke up again. "Let him go! He didn't do anything to you."

"He's an intruder, just like you," the beast countered loudly, but his grip loosened the slightest bit as he addressed Roman again. "Who are you? Do you know this person?"

"They're my friend," Roman answered, infuriated by the way he talked about Joan. "And whatever you think they did, it wasn't worth being locked in a dungeon for!" 

To his surprise, the beast simply rolled his eyes. "You don't even know what they did, and you're willing to defend them?" His tone was scornful, but there was a slight hint of what could have been interest buried underneath.

"I'll certainly believe them over _you_." 

None of the three could believe the gall Roman had summoned, and the stone-walled tower was all but silent for a moment. 

At last, the beast's answer came, surprising them all even more. "Would you bet your freedom on it?"

Roman didn't understand at first. "What?"

"Don't," Joan warned, catching on. "Don't listen to him."

The beast continued, ignoring them. "Regardless of whether they did what they did or not, do you care about them enough to trade your freedom for theirs? To take their place?"

Roman was stunned-- not by the question itself, for he knew his own answer right away-- but by the fact that the beast was willing to offer him the choice at all. It confused him, but more than that, it made him curious.

Curious as to what else in this castle was beyond what it seemed to be.

"Yes," he said, looking his captor in the eye with conviction. "Of course. If you let them go unharmed." 

The beast didn't seem to expect Roman to answer so quickly. He frowned. "Yes, I will... and you will stay here. Forever." He crossed his arms, looking down at the two humans as coldly as he could manage. 

"Roman, if you do this, I swear..." Joan began to warn, but it was too late. Roman stepped forward, nodding. 

"All right. I promise." He kept his chin high, a look of determination in his eyes, but his hands trembled slightly at his sides.

The next few moments barely registered as the iron door opened with a bang that seemed to shake the entire room. He lost his balance as he was shoved inside roughly, and he sprawled onto the floor. 

"Wait!" he called out, scrambling to his feet and desperately looking through the barred window. He caught a glimpse of the beast escorting Joan out of the room, and he could hear them calling his name, calling him an idiot for doing this. 

He was inclined to agree as the sound of his best friend's voice faded out at last, leaving him sitting completely alone in the deafening silence. 

A tear ran down his face as it sank in that he wouldn't ever get to say goodbye. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to follow me on Tumblr (@emilightniing) I have more Sanders Sides content there, including art sometimes. And moodboards, when I can't get my brain to do art.  
> (And shitposts. If you've seen that 'Virgil making various faces at Roman' post that blew up for some reason... that was mine. The prinxiety love is strong out there, and I am living for it.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Apologies for the slow progress on this story; like I mentioned before, it's been a weird time mental health-wise. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter anyway! <3

Outside the castle, Virgil stood and contemplated what he'd just done, running a gnarled hand through his dark, tangled hair. 

It had all happened so fast. He dug his claws into his palms, heart racing as the thick black clouds overshadowed the castle for the second time that day. There was nothing he could do about it now, but his mind was taunting him with other ways he could have dealt with the situation.

Two people. Two people now knew about his existence, and he'd just set one of them free, presumably to come back and kill him with an angry mob. And as for the other... well, he doubted there was much hope in making friends with his new guest. (Or prisoner, if you wanted to be technical about it.) The whole thing seemed like an utter disaster just asking to happen.

To be fair, though, that was his assessment of _most_ things.

He tried to stop himself, but he couldn't help but look over at the rosebush and wonder exactly how long it would take for it to die... 

***********************************************************

Roman wanted to be angry. He wanted to be aggressive, to fight back, to challenge his captor. But he'd been pacing the short length of his cell, alone in the tower for what felt like hours now, so there was nowhere to direct his anger save the walls. They echoed the sound of every footstep.

In reality, it probably hadn't been very long, but he was already fervently planning what he would say when-- _if_ \-- the beast came back. He would deliver a few choice words, that was certain! He would make it clear that he wasn't going to take his captivity without a fight. After all, he had a life to live. This couldn't possibly be all that was left for him now. Could it?

He let out a long, heavy sigh, not knowing what else to do, and resigned to sit on the floor and think for a moment. As he sank down, sliding against the cold stone wall, it began to sink in just how hopeless this situation was, and beyond that, how tired he was. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander, humming softly to himself. It was comforting to hear a voice floating around the room, even if it was just his own. 

A few more moments passed. He paused briefly and then quietly began to sing. It was such a familiar act that he instantly felt more relaxed. After a few verses, he no longer payed attention to his surroundings, instead pretending he was at home sitting beneath the shelf that held his stack of treasured books. 

He didn't even notice the sound of footsteps until they were right outside the door, accompanied by a looming, shadowy presence. He gasped, cutting off the song mid-word, once he realized he was no longer alone.

Neither of them said anything at first. Then, to Roman's great surprise and suspicion, the door opened. He still wasn't able to get a good look at the beast, but he could make out his shape clearly enough-- standing there, arms crossed as if waiting for something.

"You were singing," he said in a low, flat voice. The tone was hard to read, and it didn't help that Roman couldn't see his face very well. 

"Yes," Roman answered hesitantly, expecting to be silenced. 

But that didn't happen. "That's... not really what I'd expect a prisoner to do." The beast's tone was almost casual, as if he was trying to make light of the situation.

Roman managed to find his voice. "Well, surely you should _know_ how a prisoner would act."

"Should I? Why is that?"

"Because you're- I mean, it's obvious you've kept plenty of people captive here," Roman said, but his confidence was fading. 

His captor regarded him for a moment longer. "I see." There was something strange in his voice-- tiredness, perhaps, or just great weariness. "Follow me. I'll show you to your room."

Roman regarded him, more confused than ever. "My... room?" 

"Unless you'd prefer to stay in here," the beast offered sarcastically.

"Not particularly."

"All right then. Come on."

***********************************************************

The castle was even more enormous than Roman had realized. He trailed a safe distance behind the beast, who kept glancing back as if to make sure he was still there. Roman noticed that he carried a heavy-looking candelabra in one hand, although it was unlit; the only light came from the high, pointed windows and the occasional oil lamp on the wall. He was wondering what the point of carrying the candlestick was, when the beast stopped abruptly in his tracks and turned to face him again. Startled, he took a cautious step backwards.

"This is it." 

Roman relaxed slightly as a door was opened and the beast gestured for him to go ahead. He did, keeping his guard up until he saw what was inside the room.

It was beautifully furnished; more luxurious than anything he'd ever laid eyes on. The bed was grand and white and looked like a cloud; the furniture was ornately carved; the patterned walls shined as if they were embedded with real gold. He was speechless for just a moment, but then his suspicion returned and he raised an eyebrow. 

"I can stay in here?" he asked warily, folding his arms. 

The beast, who remained standing just outside the doorway, nodded. "You'll be more comfortable here than in the tower, I assume."

Roman just looked at him, not sure whether to be grateful or outraged-- why was he being treated like a guest when he knew fully well he was a prisoner? Was this some strange way of taunting him? Would it all be taken away if he showed any sign of ungratefulness? 

"I'll leave you, then," the beast said stiffly, interrupting Roman's train of thought. He placed the candelabra on the dressing table, nodded once, and then he was gone. The door closed behind him, but to Roman's surprise, there was no click of a lock to be heard.

A new voice made him jump: "Well, I can't say you're exactly what I expected, but you'll do. You'll do just fine, darling." 

He looked around the room until his eyes landed on the candlestick, who now sported three brightly lit candles-- and was also looking at him expectantly, motioning for him to come over.

"Ah-- thank you?" he responded, approaching his new brass-colored companion. "May I ask who you are, please?"

The candlestick straightened up, formally introducing himself: "Of course. Remy, at your service."

Roman smiled a little. "A pleasure. My name's Roman."

"We're delighted to have you in the castle, Roman," Remy answered warmly. 

"We?" 

"You didn't think I was the only piece of talking furniture in this place, did you?" he huffed. "Yes, all of us. I'm sure you'll meet everyone in due time."

The information took a moment to process in Roman's mind. All right, so he was trapped in a castle full of other living things, yet he was the only human. This was either the most wonderful or most terrifying thing he'd ever encountered-- in fact, it very well may have been both.

"So I'm... not locked in this room, then?" he asked, still puzzled at the notion.

Remy shook his head. "No, of course not. You'll have to excuse him; he's not exactly... accustomed to guests."

"I'd gathered that, yes," Roman said dryly. 

"But I'm sure he'll get used to you soon enough," Remy rushed to say. 

Roman shrugged, gazing out the window. He wasn't sure how he felt about any of this. "I'm not sure if I _want_ him getting used to me."

***********************************************************

"It won't be him," Virgil insisted, scowling around the room, looking everywhere except his servants' faces. He knew they were watching him with those hopeful eyes, and it burned him inside to know that they had so much faith in him when all he'd ever done was let them down. 

But of course, Patton was as optimistic as ever. "Oh, you don't know that! You haven't even had a real conversation yet." He smiled wanly, trying to push at least a little bit of hope into Virgil. It was a fruitless endeavor, as it always was, but that didn't mean he'd stop trying.

"Logically, you have nothing to lose right now," Logan pointed out. It wasn't the most uplifting statement, but it was his way of offering comfort, and they all knew it. "He is here. _You_ are here. You aren't going to be leaving here unless the curse is broken, and I doubt any other eligible young men are going to ride into the castle at this point."

"And what makes you so sure he's eligible?" Virgil growled bitterly. "I wouldn't bet on it. He's..." The words trailed off as he thought about the prisoner-- Roman, he was fairly sure he'd heard the friend call him-- and the way he'd stared with such disbelief. Such horror. And why shouldn't he have? Virgil knew how he must have looked to him; locking up his friend, appearing out of the shadows like some mythical monster... 

It was hopeless, surely. "He's beautiful," he finally said, not even trying to keep the despair out of his voice. 

Logan and Patton exchanged looks. Just because the end of the curse was within reach didn't mean it would be easy to get there, they supposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (And now it's kinda gone back to following the movie, hasn't it? I guess because there's more substance to it; don't worry though, there will be plenty of surprises along the way!)


	5. Chapter 5

_Once there was a young man-- a young man who, in fact, was to be the future king-- who thought he could live his life alone._

_As long as he generally did what was expected of him, he believed, then there was no reason to go out of his way to be sociable and charming, the way princes were so often expected to be. He was quiet, isolated, observant._ _That was how he preferred it, and for a long time, it had seemed to work for everyone._

 _He couldn't pinpoint exactly when things shifted from bad to worse, but eventually it seemed he just couldn't bear being around people anymore. No matter where he went, no matter who he interacted with, from servants to nobles to merchants to farmers, he got the same feeling from everyone. That feeling of dismissal before he'd even open his mouth. They all gave him that same invisible rejection._ _He knew he wasn't wanted by his people; wasn't suited by his nature to be a ruler._

_So he decided not to be._

_Every day, he did all he could to make sure no one would entrust him with the kingdom. He lashed out at those who tried to force him to change his ways._

_And w_ _hen the time was right, he thought, he would simply run away and be forgotten forever, just the way he felt he was meant to be..._

***************************************************

Roman startled as the sudden knock at the bedroom door interrupted his conversation with Remy. 

"Who is it?" he called warily, praying it wasn't his less-than-welcoming host. He hadn't locked the door.

"Just us two, kiddo," a friendly-sounding voice chirped from the other side. 

The door opened a crack, and Roman watched as two more servants (he guessed) entered. One was a porcelain teapot with faded blue flowers painted on his surface. He was definitely the one who'd spoken (although how exactly he'd managed to knock at the door was a mystery), as he wore a warm smile and greeted Roman with enthusiasm, introducing himself as Patton.

The other was a clock, whose name was apparently Logan. Simple, elegant, and made of dark glossy wood; out of the three servants, he was the least chatty, and he seemed to be a bit on edge. But all in all, Roman found them all to be fairly pleasant company.

Together, the three gave him a detailed list of what the castle had to offer. He was delighted to hear that there was a library, which Logan promised to show him later. There seemed to be every type of room one could dream of in this place; it almost seemed too good to be true that he was allowed to explore it freely. 

"Can I ask you something?" Roman said at last, addressing all three at once.

"Of course! Anything at all," Patton offered, which earned him a warning glance from Logan. He amended quickly: "That is, almost anything."

The qualifying statement only piqued Roman's interest even more. He spoke hesitantly: "I was wondering-- well, I don't mean to be rude, but where... did you all come from, exactly?" He was _burning_ with curiosity and questions about the nature of the castle-- it was obviously enchanted somehow, but something told him he had to be careful about digging for information. 

A sense of sadness, or perhaps fear, passed through the room as the servants exchanged looks with each other. None of them spoke right away, and Roman knew he'd asked the wrong question. 

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I shouldn't have asked..."

Remy spoke up. "No no, don't worry. It's just not a very interesting story, you know?" 

"The important thing is that we're here to help you with anything you need," Patton said in a reassuring tone. 

Roman nodded, deciding to drop the question for now. Clearly the other residents of the castle weren't quite ready to share the history of the place. Yet. "So how many more of you are there?" 

The candlestick only shrugged. He appeared to have mastered the art of imitating very human gestures. It was equally amusing and uncanny. "There must be at least a dozen or so of us," he answered uncertainly. "Or was it a half dozen? Or twenty, maybe..."

"Most of us tend to stay in one area of the castle, so it's been quite awhile since we've seen everyone," Logan explained. "It's easier that way. But I'm sure you'll meet everyone eventually." 

Patton's face lit up, and he sidled up next to the clock, nudging him. "Don't you mean he'll meet everyone... in due _time_?" 

Everyone except a very flustered Logan laughed. "Very witty," he said dryly after they had settled down. 

"You know, speaking of _time_ , darlings, I believe it's time for us to go," Remy said, looking at the door. A slight hint of urgency punctuated his tone, and the other two servants seemed to understand.

"We'll leave you to get settled in," Patton told Roman with an apologetic smile. "Please, if you need anything, just call for one of us."

Roman thanked them and assured him he would, and with that, his three companions were gone. He was alone again, in the big white-and-gold room that was far more pristine and elegant than any place he'd ever laid eyes on. In his simple, earth-worn trousers, dark red peasant shirt, and scuffed boots, he felt terribly out of place.

For the first time since he'd arrived, he looked at himself in a mirror. Sure enough, his clothes and hands were dirty from the journey. His light brown hair was windswept and messy, and his deep amber-colored eyes looked sad and tired. 

It was almost funny, he thought, to imagine what one of his unyielding admirers back in town would think if they could see him now...

***************************************************

There were plenty of people who passed by the village's one and only bookshop every day, but it was seldom that anyone went inside with intentions of doing anything but browsing idly. On that afternoon, however, Dee walked in with a purpose. His stride was full of self-importance, and his dual-colored eyes darted around, searching for his prize.

Remus trailed in behind him, less than thrilled about the location he'd been dragged to. "Why couldn't we just wait at his house?" he groaned, crossing his arms and leaning back against one of the dusty shelves. 

Dee shushed him and turned to address the owner of the bookshop. "Good afternoon."

The owner was small and elf-like, sporting short, colorful hair. "Ah, hello." They looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Is there something I can assist you with?"

"Yes, I believe so," Dee said with a wry little half-smile, casually running his finger down the spine of a book. "I'm looking for the boy who apprentices in this shop."

"Oh," the shopkeep said. They paused for a moment. "You're looking for Roman?" 

Their incredulous tone didn't escape Dee, but he pressed on. "Yes. He's a friend of mine. I was hoping to catch him here today before he left."

"Curious. He never mentioned you being friends." They seemed to be holding back a slight grin, though it was hard to tell for sure. "Well, I'm not sure what to tell you. Roman didn't come in at all today. Or yesterday, for that matter... Come to think of it, I haven't seen him anywhere in about three days."

Remus, suddenly apparently paying attention, broke into the conversation: "I told you. He's gone and gotten hitched in secret, I bet." 

Dee blatantly ignored Remus's suggestive facial expressions and persisted with questioning. "Did he say anything to you about leaving town? I get terribly _worried_ , you know." 

His companion chimed in again. "Or maybe he's just hiding from you. I'd put money on that."

"Would you kindly shut up, Remus?" Dee hissed, his temper starting to wear thin. 

"Now, Dee, you know I never do anything kindly for free."

The bookshop's owner cleared their throat, looking at both of the men with an unamused expression. "Is there anything _else_ I can do for you?" 

Dee straightened his black hat. "No, I suppose not," he said coolly; then he seemed to remember himself and gave a pleasant smile. "Thank you for your time." He left promptly, dragging a snickering Remus behind him.

The shopkeeper shook their head, pondering. They were more than familiar with the duo by reputation, but had certainly never seen either one of them set foot in the shop. If they had bothered to come here, it must have meant Roman really wasn't around. Strange. That was definitely unlike him. 

If Joan came by, they decided, they would have to ask them about it. 

***************************************************

Roman didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he nearly fell off the bed when for the second time, a knock at the door startled him. This one was much louder and more commanding, and he scrambled to stand up as he reluctantly called out, "Yes?"

Sure enough, a low and harsh voice came in response. "I expect you'll want to eat tonight," the beast said.

Roman found it curious that he wasn't even trying to open the door. He folded his arms. "Yes, that's generally something I enjoy doing." He tried his best to sound bold and unafraid, although his heart was pounding.

There was a beat of near-silence; he could hear movement outside the door, and muffled voices talking quietly. Then his captor spoke again. "Well, you have one hour. Then you'll come downstairs and join me for dinner."

That wasn't what he'd expected. He found himself laughing aloud in disbelief. "Ha! You expect me to _eat_ with you? I think not." 

No hesitation came before the beast's response: "If you want to eat at all, then you will!" His voice was louder, and it could have been Roman's imagination, but it almost sounded like it overlapped with itself-- like an echo, but different somehow. 

Roman knew he should probably stop talking, but he couldn't help but snap back. "This is how you invite someone to dinner, is it?"

He froze as he heard the beast grab the doorknob in frustration, but nothing happened. The knob didn't turn. After a few seconds, he heard what sounded like a sigh. "Fine then. Do what you wish."

Roman waited for him to say something else, but he didn't. There was a sound of heavy footsteps. As they got quieter and quieter, Roman stood puzzling over what had just happened.

Was this some sort of trap? Was he supposed to be feeling sorry for this... this monster? He cursed under his breath, plopping back onto the bed.

That was never going to happen. 


End file.
